


Bunny Goes A-Courtin'

by CronesDistaff



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: rotg_kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, Not Abandoned, Romance, Seriously Updates Will Take Decades, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:44:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CronesDistaff/pseuds/CronesDistaff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>E. Aster Bunnymund was the kind of Guardian who did things right once he'd made up his mind about something. This time, that something happened to be Jack Frost. He was in no way prepared for the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smitten and Frostbitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation SKG, Inc. Any pop culture references belong to their respective media and associated companies. 
> 
> This is a fill for a prompt on the kinkmeme that got more out of hand than James Woods at a Reeses' Pieces factory. I'm posting it re-edited and to be completed here for lack of space and readability on the original thread. You can find the OP thread here: http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/1511.html?thread=111335#cmt111335
> 
> NOW AVAILABLE HERE: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1078961/chapters/2168138

It was all Frost’s fault.

Well, that went without saying, but _this time_ , it really was his fault.

Bunnymund scowled as he paced, grumbling to himself. His nails tore up the grass with each vicious pivot; the violent twists only stoked his temper. The Warren’s blossoming trees shuddered at his black mood and showered him with soft pink petals. He brushed them off with a curse and resumed his snarling. The flowers wilted. Stone ground against stone as his sentinels’ carved expressions turned to glares. He ignored them magnificently.

This was all Jack’s fault. How dare he go and be so--so--

_Wonderful?_

“Likeable!” Bunny snapped at himself. “Admirable, fine, if you want to give him that much credit, the idiot!”

He flexed his paws, resisting the urge to punch someone. Mostly himself. He should have anticipated this. He should have known this was a possibility, but it never occurred to him that he might—he might— 

Bunny muffled his frustrated cry with his paws.

Of course it would be Frost. No one else had gotten so thoroughly under his skin. No one else had held his attention for so long. He was no stranger to thoughts of Jack after five decades of that annoying, aggravating little ratbag driving him up the wall, but these new thoughts of fondness and family were frightening with their ease and quiet intensity. Jack was still a right terror when he wanted to be, but now Bunny ruminated on his bravery, his strength, and his loyalty. His gratitude for Jack’s actions at the Battle of Burgess ran deep enough to soothe old wounds and pave the way for friendship. It was a tie Bunny gladly embraced. It was comfortable liking Jack, so much so that trying to recall the memories of Jack _before_ ached like wiggling a loose tooth with his tongue.

But that was all he thought it would be. Jack was a friend, maybe even his best friend, and a brother-in-arms. He’d been content with that--or so he’d thought--errant what-ifs and confusing dreams be damned. Now the part of him that knew better unearthed a treasure trove of Jack-obsessed thoughts and laughed in his face.

His mind was a traitorous bastard.

“Gah!” He shouted. “Couldn’t just leave it alone, could you, Aster! Nope, had to go insinuate yourself, had to look after him like a good mate!” He cringed before his temper reignited. “And I don’t even know what’s wrong with him!”

In the beginning, Jack was all quick wit and dry humor, big, bright smiles and playful smirks. It irritated Bunny even as it charmed him. Jack would tease him, try to frost his whiskers or ambush him with snowballs, and tell him what trouble he’d caused; Bunny would sigh tolerantly, snort at his antics, and try not to miss him too much when he left. The days were better with Jack’s company, and Bunny was grateful for it. If, occasionally, Bunny sought him out under the pretense of field research, well, that was no one’s business but his.

Then, two months after Pitch’s defeat, Jack started to pull away from them. The teasing became stilted, almost as painful and forced as the smiles that split his face like cracks in a glacier. He drifted off in conversation, sometimes staring into space, other times staring fixedly at his staff until someone called him back. He looked tired, paler than Bunny thought possible for a winter sprite, and his excuses were always the same.

“I’m fine,” he’d say and try to grin. “Just thinking.”

Bunny never hated that phrase so much in his life. What he was thinking about, Jack would never say, but the bleakness in his eyes had finally driven Bunny to confront the Sandman one night as he worked.

\--

“Is he sleeping?” he demanded, tapping his foot in agitation.

Sandy paused in the midst of his dreamsand conducting and pursed his lips thoughtfully. 

“Well?”

He reached up and plucked a ribbon of sand like a harp string, scattering sparkles that curled into snowflakes.

“A nod would have sufficed.” Bunny snorted. “Well, good, he’s sleeping at least. No nightmares, then?”

For a moment, Sandy was expressionless and a warning niggled in the back of Bunny’s mind, a whisper of a thought— _butterflies_ —before Sandy just beamed sunnily.

“All right.” Bunny sighed, shrugging off the strange moment. “Thanks, mate.”

\--

He tried to approach Jack a few times after that, but the more he tried to voice his concerns, the more Jack rebuffed him. Bunny quickly chose to worry in silence rather than alienate Jack entirely, but for all that he craved Jack’s company, the fear gnawed at him. Answerless and helpless, Bunny was unspeakably grateful that things had finally come to a head at North’s little celebration.

Even if he didn't act like it now.

\--

The middle of July brought about Jack’s most miserable behavior. Tooth speculated it was a heat sickness: Jack hadn’t been himself since the start of June, and the summer had been warmer than usual. She fretted over Jack’s extreme reluctance to leave North America for places experiencing southern winter before North pointed out that Jack made a habit of going to Antarctica and seemed unaffected by the Equator. She quickly countered that he could take the wind high enough over the Andes to stay cool, but then North barreled over her argument with his opinion that heat waves—especially when Jack could flee to Alaska or lurk around Santoff Clausen’s arctic preserve—were not the problem. 

“Jack is still overwhelmed,” he insisted. “He was thrown into Guardianship and the chaos of Pitch’s attempted coup after three centuries of neglect and isolation.”

They all winced at that, their guilt palpable, but North soldiered on.

“Jack has believers now, he has family now; he doesn’t know how to deal with that. He needs to be reassured that these things aren’t going to be taken away,” he said. “We should have proper get together. Not like the big party after the battle, just something little to get to know him better. Then, maybe, he will be more comfortable with us.”

Tooth clapped excitedly, latching onto that idea like a perky limpet.

Sandy nodded but asked for something other than cookies and eggnog for refreshments, _please_.

Bunny just wondered at North’s dubious logic but said nothing. It wasn’t like he had a better idea. 

So, they gathered at the North Pole a week later. Sandy and Tooth had joined forces to bring proper catering and none-too-discreetly exchanged a thumbs-up when Jack took a couple of sandwiches with a ridiculously appreciative look. The party went well as Jack chatted quietly with the others, and all the while Bunny watched him like a hawk. Jack was smiling, albeit a more of a half-smile, but even that progress was hampered every time Tooth or North made a move to touch him. Jack didn’t jerk away like he used to, but the flinches and cringes as he endured the contact were hardly an improvement. Bunny and Sandy exchanged concerned glances before Bunny’s eyes snapped back to his friend. He tried to turn away again briefly, but a strange tension pulled in his chest and a restless buzz crawled up his leg, making him fidget. The sensations stopped whenever Jack circled back around to his side. He seemed just as relieved as Bunny felt for their companionable silence and lighthearted bickering.

Then Tooth and her adoring flock pulled Jack away to continue their conversation over some fruity iced drink, and it all went to hell. One moment, Bunny was explaining to North that, no, he did not have fleas when he kept twitching; the next, Jack’s explosive yelling ripped through the quiet like a jagged knife. 

“ _I said, no!_ ” Jack shouted, absolutely livid as wild flurries stirred up around him. “ _Why can’t you people just leave me alone?!_ ”

Tooth stared at him, her wide purple eyes bright with hurt, while her Baby Teeth whimpered.

Bunny would never forget how Jack’s startlingly cold expression of fury melted into the frightened look of a hunted thing.

“I—” He choked, floundering helplessly, and then turned tail and bolted out the nearest window.

\--

“And I just had to follow him!” Bunny groaned in dismay as he flopped onto the gouged grass and buried his face in his paws. “I just had to make sure he was okay!”

If only he hadn’t, if only he’d let Tooth or North do it, he wouldn’t have to confront something he’d barely realized about himself that was suddenly _right there_.

\--

But of course he went after Jack. He bounded through the snow and slipped down a tunnel all the way back to the Warren—a stopover on a whim to grab his pack—before heading to Burgess. There was a slim chance Jack would be at his pond; it was his home, where he felt safest, Bunny supposed. He doubted he would have stayed at the North Pole when he was so distressed, and he sincerely hoped Jack hadn’t flown off to Antarctica. 

His hope was rewarded when he hopped out the tunnel and found Jack curled in a ball on a rather snowy log for late July. The frost crunched softly as he mindlessly drew lines with the end of his staff. Bunny padded over to him and brushed the frost off his perch before sitting down with a grunt.

“Couldn’t you at least have left half the log warm and dry?” he griped, shuffling uncomfortably.

Jack ignored him.

Bunny drummed his claws on the cool, wet bark and sighed. “I’d like to point out, Jack,” he said mildly, “that you are incredibly not fine. I would go so far as to say that you’re spectacularly un-fine.”

There was a beat of silence, and then his ears picked up a low muttering protest. “That’s not a word.”

“It’s perfectly cromulent.” 

That got him a teeny smile.

“Shut up." 

“Nah, mate. Don’t think so.” Bunny smirked, basking in the moment, and then felt his worry surge forward. “We need to talk about this.”

Jack tried to angle himself away but Bunny snorted and kicked the staff, jarring it from the crackling snow and earning himself a glare.

“Oi. None of that now.”  He pinned him with his eyes; whatever Jack saw there made him deflate and uncurl in his seat.

Bunny let him resituate, laying his crook across his lap, before speaking again. “What’s wrong, Frostbite?” He saw Jack roll his shoulders and cut him off before he even opened his mouth. “It is not nothing,” he practically hissed. “Something’s been bothering you for months.” He scowled and then added, “At _least_.”

Jack tensed, exhaling sharply, and then finally, after weeks of dodging, surrendered.

“I just—I guess I’m just…overwhelmed.” He sighed and closed his eyes wearily as he absently traced the whorls and grooves of his staff. “I understand you guys think of me like…one of you, maybe, or a friend, or something, but—“

“But what?” Bunny huffed, raising an eyebrow. “Mate, you are a Guardian. We aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you. We’re in this together.”

“Oh, and everything’s sunshine and rainbows now, is that it? Fantastic!” He laughed, the brittle shards of his voice grating on Bunny’s ears. “I can just disregard everything that’s ever happened to me because, hey, the Man in the Moon made it all better! And, oh, how could I forget!“ he cried sarcastically and stabbed him with a nasty glower. “The Easter Bilby’s finally got my back!”

Bunny’s hackles rose and he nearly lashed out, but the look in Jack’s eyes stopped him. He was doing this on purpose. He was hoping for an argument, waiting for Bunny’s anger to get the better of him so he’d drop the subject. Bunny was not about to oblige. He took a deep breath and gave Jack a long, unimpressed stare. Jack broke away and ducked his head as a light frost crawled across his cheeks.

“We were worried about you, Snowflake,” he said quietly, deliberately. “I can see that we’re not worth the same courtesy.”

Jack reared up like a startled horse. “How can you say that? You of all people, Cottontail, know how much I worry about you guys! Do think I would have helped you if I didn’t?” He glared. “After everything I-- 

“It’s not the same thing, Jackie. Yeah, you’re worried when we have outside threats to face, but you totally distance yourself from us when the enemy’s _inside_. You’re fighting something even as you’re fighting us, Jack. Did you think we wouldn’t notice? Did you think we wouldn’t care?”

Jack grimaced.

“I get it, Frostbite, I do.” Bunny frowned. “We screwed up. We screwed up big time. We never should have left you alone for so long, and we’re sorry for that. _I’m_ so sorry for that,” he said thickly. “I don’t know if we can ever do anything to make up for it, Jack, but we’re not going anywhere. You _are_ one of us, and you’re in pain. What affects you has an effect on all of us. That’s what family is. That’s what we are. Please, tell me what’s wrong.” 

There was a pause, and then a harsh whisper, a murmur of flurries, “I don’t remember.”

Jack looked so lost he could hardly bear it. He took Jack’s hand in his paw and was heartened that he didn’t flinch. 

“Mate,” he said, catching Jack’s eyes before he could duck his head again, “I may not understand what it was like for you all this time, at least not completely.” He hesitated and tried not shiver at the phantom feeling of his devastated believers passing through him no matter how much he begged and pleaded for their attention. His gut twisted. He cleared his throat and added roughly, “But I want to help.” 

Jack flicked his eyes back to his staff and bit his lip.

“Please, Frostbite.”

Jack’s hand twitched in his and he swallowed hard. “Stuff like this,” he said haltingly, darting his eyes from their hands to Bunny’s face as if waiting for an attack.

Bunny just quirked his ears inquisitively. “Yeah?”

“I—It—” A steady frost graced his cheeks, ears, and neck as his lips trembled, then he burst out, “I don’t remember it! I don’t remember what it was like! I see it all the time, and Tooth and North try to do it every time I see them, and I want to, and—and I can’t!”

There was a longer pause, a glacial chasm, before Jack rearranged his face into a playful mask. 

“’Course,” he drawled, “if I’d known that widdle Bun-Bun wanted to hold my hand—”

“Widdle Jackie doesn’t seem to mind,” he retorted and tightened his grip when Jack predictably tried to jerk away in embarrassment.

Bunny knew this wasn’t all that was bothering Jack, not by a long shot, but it was a huge problem that had to be addressed. Anything to stop Jack’s excruciating T-rex defense when confronted with a hug was good in Bunny’s book.

“Look, if it’ll help, I’ll tell the others to back off.  You shouldn’t feel like you have to push yourself so hard for this. Start small, okay? Let us know if you get uncomfortable. Bailing out the window is a mite extreme.”

Jack winced at the reminder.

“Yeah,” he said sympathetically, “I know Toothy can be a bit, well, touchy--”

“It wasn’t that,” Jack said quickly. “I mean, kinda, but it was just—” He hesitated, looking pained. “I didn’t know what to do. Everyone was trying to be nice, but it’s still weird because you’re the Big Four, and I’m just—” 

“One of us,” Bunny insisted gently. “And just as important.”

An unreadable expression flitted across Jack's face before he found his voice again. “I know,” he murmured, even as his eyes said _you think that now_ ; Bunny nearly cringed in guilt. “But they just kept asking me questions, and I didn’t know what to say. Then North was squeezing me on the shoulder and calling me “son”, and Tooth kept trying to hug me like that’s supposed to include me more or something. I didn’t get it, but they were so earnest about it, I didn’t want to disappoint them.” 

 _Oh, yeah, great plan: force yourselves on him. Nothing more comfortable than having your personal space violated_ , Bunny thought derisively and then worried rather belatedly that he’d crossed that line. He silently cursed himself and started to pull away, but Jack’s fingers were intertwined with his—when had _that_ happened?—and refused to budge.

“It felt like they wanted more from me than I could give because I’m not—used to it,” he said, and Bunny wondered what he’d meant to say before he was distracted by the stubborn look Jack threw at him. “But this is…better.” He nodded toward their hands. “I’m good with this.”

Bunny had no idea what to say to that. He felt pleased and protective, yet sad and concerned and strangely validated all at once. Luckily, he had the presence of mind to smile before Jack could misunderstand his tongue-tied state.

“So,” Jack asked wryly, “how much should I grovel to Tooth? Would you say it’s “let her poke at my teeth” bad, or…?”

“More like, “convince Jamie and his crew not to eat sweets for a couple weeks” bad.”

Jack groaned and tapped his staff against his forehead.  

“Or,” Bunny offered lightly, “you could just explain what happened. She’d understand. Probably do a better job of it than most of us.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed with a smirk, “less distance to travel from ear to brain.”

“ _Excuse me!”_  

“Point made.”

“My hearing is a hundred times better than yours!”

“Really?” Jack leaned toward him and asked, very seriously, “Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?”

A startled laugh burst from him before he could stop it. “Jack!”

Jack’s eyes were as bright as his smile. “Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?”

“You’re never allowed to watch those movies again!”

“But the one with the fish is next!”

“Shh!” Bunny cried, holding a paw up to his ear. “The world’s smallest violin is playing _Hearts and Flowers_ just for you.”

“You are the worst!” Jack laughed, shaking his head.

“Nah, mate. I’m the best.”

“Sure, Harvey, whatever you say.” 

“ _Which_ ,” Bunny stressed with a glare, “is why I’m going to ignore that and give you a gift instead.”

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Should you ever want to see me,” he said, pausing as he reached into his pack, “or need someplace to go, you’re always welcome in the Warren.”

He held out a carved wooden pendant strung on a thin cord. It wasn’t his best work: the shape was rough, the wood was far too plain, and the cord was more fragile than he’d like given Jack’s antics. But function mattered more here. If it did its job, he could consider a better fit for Jack and the other Guardians. For now, he hoped Jack would accept it. And he did. The moment his eyes lit on it, Jack propped his staff against his shoulder to free his other hand without letting go of Bunny’s paw, much to Bunny’s amusement. 

Jack took the pendant and brought it to his face. He squinted. “Is that a kangaroo?” 

“Would you prefer a poodle?” 

“No,” he said musingly, tilting his hand, “but I do like bunnies.” 

“Flatterer.” Bunny snorted and had to stop himself from grinding his teeth in a happy purr. “It’s a key. As long as you have it on, you can access the tunnels.”

“So, I just put it on?” he asked dubiously even as he did so. “And then, what, jump on the ground?”

“It’ll glow when you’re near an entry point. Just tap the ground and you’re on your way.” Bunny rolled his eyes. “Though if you want to bounce around like a fool, be my guest.” 

“And you’re giving this to _me_?”

“Well spotted.” Bunny snorted. “Look, you don’t have to panic. It’s not a big deal if you lose it. It’s not like any ol’ bloke can break into the Warren. I’m not that dense, thanks.” He turned the pendant over in Jack’s palm. “See those runes? That’s your name and the mark of a friend. This’ll only work for you. The sentinels will let you pass and nobody else.” He shrugged. “Well, until I make some for the others. Wanted to make sure you could do it first.”

“You trust me that much?” Jack asked softly, awestruck and something else that Bunny couldn’t quite define. It made his breath catch and his insides burn like someone had reached in with a fiery hand and _squeezed_.

“Yeah,” he croaked, shaking them out of their daze. “I mean, it’s easier, y’know, if you get into trouble. Don’t have to get the wind to find me.”

Jack blinked and cleared his throat before settling into his typical smirk. “Define ‘trouble’.”

“Emergencies. Dire situations. Cases in which you need to flee.”

“But you said I was welcome anytime! What if I’m direly bored? That counts, right?”

Bunny scowled; Jack beamed in triumphant glee. 

“For every prank you pull,” he growled, “I’ll dunk you in the River of Coloring.”

“Challenge accepted, Boomer!”

Bunny rolled his eyes, already preparing himself for an onslaught of kangaroo jokes—which he secretly didn’t mind at all—and then reluctantly released Jack’s hand. He patted it briefly, giving Jack a smile, before he made to stand.

“Hey…Aster?”

Bunny froze. The look on Jack's face was so open and vulnerable that he wanted to scrub it away with his paws. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Don’t need to thank me,” Bunny said. “We’re family. We look out for each other.”

Jack stared at him as though he’d never seen him before and then lowered his eyes. “Could you just…” he muttered under his breath, shrugging awkwardly, “sit with me for awhile? If—If that’s okay?”

 “Sure,” he managed gruffly, settling back down. “All right.”

The silence resumed, waiting, until Jack’s hand edged hesitantly back into his paw. His fingers curled around his pads; Bunny pretended not to notice the chill. Jack exhaled softly through his nose and looked up at the gloaming sky. His gaze wandered, lingering on the faint stars as a tiny smile played at his lips, but the sadness creeping into his eyes felt like a swift kick to Bunny’s chest. Jack had no business looking like that. He squeezed his hand and scrambled to say something, anything to bring back his cheer. The words caught in his throat when Jack’s head rested against his arm. It jolted him like a livewire, leaving him breathless as that same heat scorched through him. Suddenly, his whole world was Jack: the cool softness of his skin, the weight of him against his side, the rustle of his hair against his fur, the crisp wintery edge of his scent, and the pendant, _his_ pendant, around his neck. Then something clicked into place, something that filled him with such joy he nearly accused Jack of whammying him. It felt right. It felt like coming home.

Then fear trickled down his spine like melting ice. He would lose this again. He wanted to scream. He would lose this again because he was the last, because Jack could go, Jack could be taken from him, and Bunny couldn’t—he couldn’t let that happen. Not again, _not ever again_! He had to—He had to make him stay, he had to keep him safe, he had to make him—

_Mine._

And then awareness, sharp and stinging as a spider bite, struck the instant his chin nuzzled against Jack’s hair.

\--

“A mate!” Bunny howled, twisting his ears in his paws as the Coloring Creeks gurgled in the distance. “A mate!”

It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t an infatuation. Jack was _marked_. Jack was partially claimed, and he had no idea. He’d just sat there, concerned and confused, as Bunny had tremblingly pulled himself together and rambled on about plants just to keep from jumping him. By the time Jack had left, taking the Wind to give Tooth and her besotted helpers his apologies, Bunny was a wreck. He still couldn’t even believe what he’d done. He’d marked Jack. He’d marked Jack without his consent.

 _This isn’t supposed to be happening!_ _I’m the last! How can I feel anything for him when he isn’t even my kind?! Jack’s human! He’s always going to be human! He’s always going to want a human!_

Bunny’s heart gave a violet lurch.

“Oh, Aster.” He ran his paw down his face. “What’s wrong with you?”

This was wrong. He knew it was wrong. Jack was so young—he was practically still a teenager!—for all that he was over 300, and he was in no way ready for a romantic relationship. He could barely accept being part of his new family, let alone any kind of physical intimacy beyond a handshake. He needed friendship, and he trusted Bunny with that friendship. He needed consistency, stability, and reassurance; how could he betray that? 

Bunny shouldn’t have been considering it; he shouldn’t have even been _attracted_ to him. Jack was so _alien_. He was cold and small. He was as gangly and wispy as willow branches. He was far, far too bare with so much furless skin. His hands and feet were puny, clawless things, his nose was so thin and pointy, and his ears were little fleshy round nubs—useless compared to his. Jack didn’t have a tail. He didn’t even have whiskers! Just his strange baldness and those _weird_ unified teeth Tooth adored, and those hideous-wonderful blue eyes. He should be so _ugly_. He should make Bunny cringe at the unnaturalness of him. 

Yet, he _wanted_.

He couldn’t forget the way Jack’s hair rustled like rimed pine, and his fingers itched to touch. He couldn’t forget how Jack’s hand fit so snugly in his paw, and the desire to explore more of that skin, to feel chilled fingers in his fur, burned through him like a brushfire. He remembered the trust and gratitude in Jack’s eyes and his warm smiles after months of so much ice, and he wanted more. He wanted to hear those rare joyous laughs. He wanted to be the reason for them. He wanted Jack to feel like he belonged, like he was family, like he mattered. He wanted things from Jack, for Jack, with Jack, that he couldn’t even name. The list was staggering.

Bunny was scared out of his wits.

Then he took a slow, deep breath and said, “Okay, what’s done is done. These are your options, Aster.” He grimaced. “You can ignore the situation and pray it’ll go away, which it won’t. Or, you can do right by Jack and…” He stopped, bowing his head in thought.

He could do right by Jack and give him an easy out. He could admit to a crush. Jack might be uncomfortable, Bunny might be humiliated, but it wouldn’t threaten their bond if Jack thought it was just a slight infatuation. Bunny would never tell him otherwise. Friendship was better than nothing, even if it made him heartsick. There was simply no getting around the fact that Jack would never want someone who wasn’t a member of his species, and he would never force Jack to try. He just wasn’t sure how much he’d suffer being connected to Jack knowing it would never be reciprocated. That he would never be good enough. His chest went painfully tight. Mates were supposed to be a part of you, the very best of you, and they were only marked when they held you just as dearly. To lose one was to lose everything. Bunny’s actions had practically guaranteed that his own heart and soul would never want him back. Worse still, he would have to watch Jack choose someone else.

“Yeah, that’d be right,” he muttered miserably at the grass. “What else can I do?”

The silence mocked him, and then a single white violet sprouted next to his foot. Bunny glared, hating everything.

 “Sure,” he snarled, throwing his arms up, “let’s take a chance!” He leapt to his feet. “Let’s take a chance, my great hairy—”

 Wow, he never knew stones could look so _irritated_.

“What?” Bunny barked at the sentinels and their stupid judgmental faces. “Don’t you get it? I can’t! I’m not like him, I’m not—I’m not human enough for him! Why the hell would I even try? He won’t--” His voice broke. “He won’t want me.”

 _Based on what?_ The thought jabbed at him. _Because you said so? He’s no Pooka, and you still want him. Do you really think Jack can’t reciprocate?_

“He’s human,” he said stubbornly. “He deserves someone normal. To him.”

_Aster, you’re a giant bunny, Tooth’s a bird mutant, North’s…North, Sandy’s whatever he is, and Jack’s a dead boy. You are his normal. Stop running._

“I’m not!” He snapped, his pride bristling. “I’m trying to give Jack what he deserves!”

_Jack deserves to make that decision for himself. You trust him with the Warren. Why can’t you trust him with this?_

“Because—” Bunny started and then bit his lip.

Because it was easier. Because if he thought Jack might accept him and got rejected anyway, it would hurt so much worse than it did now. It might ruin everything. It was better to nip this in the bud.

_For you, or for Jack?_

“Both,” Bunny said curtly, trying not to imagine Jack’s disgusted reactions to his unwanted advances.

 _For God’s sake, Aster, you don’t know that!_ Great, now his own brain was exasperated with him. _Does Jack really seem like the type to do that? He practically cuddled with you! What if he does like you but won’t go for it? You could both be happier this way!_

“He’ll say no.”

_Then he says no. Better than never knowing if he might’ve said yes. Would you rather live with that?_

No, no, he wouldn’t.

_Jack might agree. You marked him for a reason. Have faith in that. Let him decide._

Bunny closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. “He’ll say no,” he insisted. “He’ll say no, but he could—he could say yes.” He flexed his paws and wished Jack’s hand was in his again. “Do I dare?”

This could end terribly. Jack might never speak to him again. It could drive a wedge deeper between the Guardians than the gap Jack had repaired. If it got out to the children, the damage could be irreparable. _Why, yes, Daddy, Jack Frost married the Easter Bunny! Do you think they play naked like you and Mommy?_ He winced. That would be a catastrophe of Pitch proportions. But, to have Jack by his side, if there was even a possibility of it… he had to know. He had to try. Jack was worth it.

 _Let’s take a chance on happiness,_ he thought, his eyes straying to the little white violet. He sighed and then stood tall. _I’m not the Guardian of Hope for nothing._

“We do this right,” he said. “We go by the code.” 

Stone ground on stone as the sentinels smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the story progresses, I'll be playing around with the Guardians' movieverse and bookverse backstories, along with a helping of other mythologies and real life events. 
> 
> Descriptions are based on my copy of RotG Art Book with some liberties. (If you don't have the book, you should totally get it.) 
> 
> The tags will change! I haven't yet decided if I will have the relationships consummated "on screen" or not. Let me know what you think.
> 
> New Edit 2016: This story is still not abandoned! I just take decades to update. No lie.


	2. North's Blessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation SKG, Inc. Any pop culture references belong to their respective media and associated companies.

“ _No_! For the last time, the bouncy balls are not peppermint!”

North stormed across the workshop as he spotted yet another group of elves gnawing on the red and white striped bouncy balls. He would never forgive himself for choosing that color scheme. And to think he’d found this behavior charming! Hah! His headache begged to differ. He felt a skosh of satisfaction when the elves whipped around at his approach and stared up at him with wide eyes. He towered over them like a hunting beast, crossed his arms, and glared. There was a brief, tense standoff. North counted to three in his head before the elves crumbled. The majority plucked the bouncy balls out of their mouths and pouted. The rest made a show of spitting the balls into their hands, save the elf who’d jammed an impressive five bouncy balls into his mouth and simply waved at him while drool oozed down his chin.

“I’m being punished,” North griped, shifting his gaze to the elves passing around plates of healthy snacks. “ ‘You have cavity,’ she says with no proof! And then she takes my cookies from me. Now the elves go mad in withdrawal, and she gives me _rice crackers_!”

A brown yeti grunted from the teddy bear assembly line.

“I did not insult her,” North snapped. “It was misunderstanding.”

The yeti scoffed as he perfunctorily stitched a little bear together.

“I do not lie! She complains about her feathers getting dull with age, and I tell her, ‘Toothy, you’re pulchritudinous every time I see you,’ and she does this to me!”

He threw the Guardian an unimpressed look.

“I am not overreacting! _She_ is overreacting! I—” North froze, alarm clear on his face as his skin prickled with a charge of magic. He glanced up. Lines of blue light raced along support beams and dropped down, coalescing into a vivid Guardian insignia on the wall. He sighed, half-relieved. It wasn’t an enemy, but that hardly ruled out an ambush. “If she so much as looks at my eggnog, I will replace all her floss with tinsel!”  He was halfway through planning his retaliation for Tooth’s cookie thievery when the light tinged green and twisted into an egg shape. “Oh, goodie!” he cheered sarcastically. “Bunny is here to whine about Jack. Best part of my day.”

The yeti snorted.

“I will be in Globe Room.” North said, then turned and pinned the puffy-cheeked elves with an exasperated look. “Do not eat the bouncy balls!”

They spit the balls back into their hands; the one with five managed to spit them out with an explosive ‘bleh’ noise and giggled as great stingy globs of saliva clung to his lips.

North cringed.

“They are not candy! Clean them—No, spit shine does not count!—and put them back in bouncy room!” He met their mulish expressions and caved. Slightly. “Fine!” he said. “I will get you chocolate from Easter Bunny. But only if you stop trying to eat the toys!”

They burst into action, tripping over each other in their wild scramble. North watched resignedly as the glistening bouncy balls went flying and the obstreperous little monsters gave chase like a pack of jingling, destructive puppies.

“You take care of this,” he said, pointing at the disgruntled yeti heading the stocking stuffer station, “and I give you fifty points toward ice cream party.”

The yeti gave him a flat look.

“And spiffy new tie,” North said, “with funny penguins.”

He rolled his eyes but acquiesced with a dull grunt. 

“Thank you,” North said and then grudgingly headed to greet the newest nuisance.

 _So, what will this be today?_ He mused wearily. _‘Maybe I finally get story of what happened after the party. Jack was not clear beyond apology, but Bunny obviously did something. Some days, I do not know if their friendship is best or worst thing to happen to them._

“I do not miss him whining about Jack Frost the rotten punk, but worrying under pretense of whining is not much better.” He shook his head at their strange relationship while he ducked into the corridor and made his way toward the Globe Room. “Not that I do not worry about the boy, but Bunny is on whole other level.”

Bunny would never admit it, of course, but he hardly needed to. North wasn’t blind to how Bunny’s attention would immediately snap to Jack whenever the boy sauntered into the room. At the slightest sign of discomfort, Bunny would intervene like a great mother hen, herding Jack to the safety of his seat and pointedly setting plates of food in front of him until the boy tucked in. There was a story behind the behavior, yet another indication of their enviable, if baffling closeness. It galled him that Bunny’s fussing was the only kind Jack would endure. Maybe he should have tried Aster’s methods; at least his epic backfires worked out in the end. He remembered the first time Bunny had pushed a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of pastries into the boy’s hands with a curt, “Eat something, you’re a twig”. The two had ended up in a spectacular fight and Bunny’s sulk had lasted for _weeks_. The second time Bunny had started loading up a plate, Jack had preemptively attacked with a mound of carrot cake and a crack about “building up the pudge if you wanna compete with the Big Man, Boomer.” North’s vehement, “I’m not fat!” had been drowned out by a battle of wits that ended, rather anticlimactically, with Jack irritably shoveling the cake into his mouth and Bunny smirking into his mug. These needling exchanges happened so often now that North only noticed when they stopped. And the yawning silence was brutal.

Jack’s cold shoulder was rough on all of them. He wished Jack would simply talk to them. He didn’t know if it was something they had done, or something he perceived they had done, or something else entirely, but they could not fix a problem if they didn’t know what the problem was. It was a horrible stalemate. When Jack dropped by to apologize, he’d hoped that something would give, that Jack would finally let him in. But all he’d gotten was another brief exchange with a Jack who was trying too hard to be fine. So North poured his frustration into toy production, even as he racked his brain for answers. It did not help that it was stuck on Bunny’s odd, restless behavior at the party.

 _As if he was straining against the urge to coddle._ North snorted. “Let me love you from closer distance.”

“What did you just say?!” Bunny’s belligerent voice startled him; he looked around guiltily, only to hear Bunny shout, “Your blasted friendship ponies aren’t better than my googies! You can’t eat rainbow sparkles!”

There was no mistaking the sharp bark of Yetish curse words.

“Already with the damage control!” North huffed and then broke into a half-run as a commotion erupted further up the hall.

“Oi! Don’t you even start on Easter!” Bunny practically howled. “You have no idea what goes into it! Did you see those eggs?! Do you remember painting ‘em?!” 

North rounded the bend and nearly stumbled through a scattered pile of bright orange My Little Ponies. He cursed at the mess and then cursed the stupid rabbit for picking a fight with his already harried worker. “What is going on here?!”

Bunny and the yeti stood, staring each other down, in the middle of the pony carnage. He expected nothing less, given Bunny’s truculence, but his mind refused to process the sight of Bunny _wearing clothes._ North blinked, then rubbed his eyes and blinked again. No change. It was irrefutable. Bunny was wearing clothes. He was in some kind of formal dress, North supposed, a green vest that looked like leather armor with matching bracers and footwraps and a pair of pants that ended at his knees. Bunny was wearing pants. Why was he wearing pants? 

“Nothing,” Bunny said tersely, and it took North a second to realize he was answering his first question. “Just wasn’t expecting this guy to get all aggro on me over some ponies.” 

The yeti growled.

“Oh, well, excuse me, ya bloody Brony!”

“Enough!” North said, stepping between them before they could come to blows. “It has already been very long day without resorting to violence. I think we can come to understanding, yes?”

“I’m not the one with the problem,” Bunny scoffed, and North had the impression he would have crossed his arms if he hadn’t been holding a present.

Bunny was holding a present. A neatly wrapped present, roughly the size of a chocolate box. And he was at the North Pole. In pants.

He could not deal with this without his cookies.

“I do not care,” he said in lieu of all the questions dancing on the tip of his tongue. “We are picking up this mess, and you are both apologizing.”

He overrode Bunny’s indignant, “I didn’t—” and Brendan’s snarling with a sharp, “Santa has spoken!” and a fierce glare. It wasn’t long before the toys were back in Brendan’s arms and muttered apologies were exchanged.

“Good! Now, Bunny, if you please, we are closer to my office. We will talk there.” North smiled, pushing the Pooka front of him as he glanced back at Brendan. “As for you, thirty points on ice cream chart for doing good job.” His bland smile curdled in distaste as he eyed the ponies. “Now take them back!” he said, waving dismissively as he escorted Bunny away. “Make them green with mint cutie marks! Do not skimp on glitter!”

The yeti whipped imprecations at his back before stomping off.

“I heard that!” North sighed explosively and shook his head as they left the hall. “You have chosen bad time to visit, Bunny. The workshop is a tinderbox. The elves are insane, the yetis are on verge of meltdown. I cannot lose them, Bunny. They do such great detail work, even with massive bean-bag fingers! Only promise of ice cream party is keeping chaos at bay.” He added bitterly, “It does not help when Toothy undermines my authority!” 

Bunny frowned. “She what now?”

“She is a lying liar who lies!” he hissed. “I do not have cavity! I have never had cavity! My teeth are like steel!”

“I’ll, uh, take your word for that, mate,” Bunny said slowly, measuring his response. “What did she do, exactly?”

“She has absconded with my cookies, my candy, my chocolate, and my sugar! She only left enough to make treats for the believers. I _checked_!” He cried desperately. “She left me fruit and vegetables. I cannot placate elves and yetis with carrots and apple slices. Production is on verge of collapse, and it is only July! There is no conveniently brave child and plucky sidekick to save Christmas!”

“Whoa, now, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Bunny hiked the box under his arm. “I can think of several heroes who’d jump at the chance to save Christmas. You just might have to be kidnapped by Awgwas or something to make it more interesting.”

North glared.

“And you should probably ask the reindeer first. Y’know, what with the whole Rudolph thing, it might hurt their feelings to be passed up for a dog or a taxi driver in Florida. Don’t want ‘em mowing down old fogies again.” He paused. “Wait. Does it count if Comet gave you a rope?”

“You really want to bring holiday movies into this, Sunny?” North snarked.

“Depends. Where’d ya put Topper?”

“Where did you put that drum set?”

“Oh, low blow, Noel. I thought you had a happiness.”

“I thought you had a talking bonnet.”

“I hate these movies! It’s not fair! I get stupid songs about chickens and complete tripe about living at the North bloody Pole, and what do you get?”

“Martians,” North deadpanned.

Bunny made a face as he struggled to retort and came up with nothing. “Point,” he grunted, conceding, and then shook his head. “Look, I’ll mediate your little tiff, if you want. I have to talk to her anyway. Might as well do you a solid.”

North stared.

“And,” he continued blithely, “I am a master chocolatier. Not to mention a fair baker. I’ll lend you some of my stock. Didn’t you say something about the yetis wanting cheesecake?”

North grabbed Bunny’s arm and stopped them both short. “You are here with present, in clothes,” he said incredulously, gesturing toward said clothes, “offering to help me— _me_ —with no imminent danger involved.” He raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What did you do?”

Bunny bristled. “Well, I’d argue sugar-deprived elves are a bit of a crisis—”

“Okay, what did you do to Jack?”

“Enough with the baseless accusations! Nothing bad happened. He’s fine.” 

And there was the classic Bunny obfuscation that never worked. 

Bunny scowled. “Can we at least get somewhere private before you interrogate me?” 

“Fine, fine,” North said easily, letting their walk pass in an anxious silence until they reached his office. Then he opened the door and ushered him inside with an ominous, “This had better be good.”

Bunny’s ears twitched as the door shut behind him.

\--

Bunny never liked North’s office. So much was crammed into a comparatively little space, and his eyes never quite knew where to rest. Tools, blueprints, and unfinished ice sculptures littered all the tables. Piles of books and ice blocks surrounded each table like barricades. Toy prototypes of all shapes and sizes lined the shelves and dangled from the ceiling. Children’s letters and drawings decorated the walls. Suspended ice ballerinas, snowflakes, stars, and airplanes spun in slow circles in front of the large windows. Tiny ice cars raced along looping ice ramps. A toy train whistled as it cruised down a winding track mounted overhead. How North ever got any work done, Bunny didn’t understand. It was all so terribly distracting, which he was grateful for now. He let his eyes wander as North cleared off a chair with a great sweep of his arm and drug it in front of his cluttered desk. This was a conversation he really didn’t want to have.  

_Remember the code, Aster. Declare your intentions. Prove your worth. You can do this._

Bunny took a deep breath. He could do this. He would do this. He just wished North wasn’t the one who best fit the bill. If anything went wrong, well, he’d be looking at the business end of a blade. Granted, it was only marginally better than a dreamsand whip or an enraged fairy and her enraged swarm of minions—which, now that he thought about it, he’d probably have to face anyway, assuming North didn’t try to kill him, banish him, or get the Moon to strip him of his Guardianship for trying to court a 300 year old dead human teenager—but North was a reasonable man. Most of the time. He was Santa Claus, after all. Peace on Earth, good will toward Men and Pookas. Nothing to worry about.

“So,” North said, gesturing toward the chair. “Sit. Explain. I’m dying to hear it.” He took his seat behind the desk and smiled. “Especially why you’re wearing clothes.”

Bunny thought of what he was going to say and did a quick mental calculation of the distance between North and anything the man could use as a weapon.

This was an awful, awful idea.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t the robe,” he huffed and tried to inconspicuously move farther away from the table saw eight feet to his right. “And I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind.”

North shrugged and then fixed him with a pointed look. “So, what happened with Jack?”

“What makes you think Jack’s involved?”

North snorted. “Is always about Jack. You certainly do not come to talk about Easter.” 

“Not for any sane reason, no.” 

“And your attempts at evasion do not work, so cut to the chase: what did you do that requires present, and why did you bring it here? For inspection?”

Bunny hesitated. “It’s—it’s not for Jack, exactly,” he said. His claws drummed nervously on the box in his grip. “It’s for him, but not _for_ him, you know, just in a roundabout way. Well, you and him, but mostly you, because of him and what you are to him, and—” He shut his mouth with a tooth-rattling clack.

_For Heaven’s sake, Aster, quit stalling! You’re not a coward! Pull yourself together!_

North stared at him like he’d just spoken in tongues. “Right,” he said, drawing out the word.

“I—” His voice quavered embarrassingly and he drew himself up in irritation. He would not screw this up. He would not! Jack deserved better than this. “Look, never mind, just strike all that! I’m starting over.”

“Okay,” North agreed, his voice strained with suppressed laughter.

Bunny glowered at him. Then he stood proudly, took a deep breath, and began. “I, E. Aster Bunnymund, Guardian of Hope and Herald of Spring, hereby declare my intention to court Jackson Overland Frost, Guardian of Fun and Herald of Winter. I ask for your blessing,” he paused as he set the box on the desk, “and present proof of my worth in good faith.”

The silence was heavier than North’s entire fortress.

He hadn’t thought the man’s eyebrows could crawl so high, either.

North opened his mouth, closed it, cleared his throat, then opened his mouth and shut it again.

“Is,” he said slowly, “is this a joke?” 

Bunny scowled. “No, it’s not a joke! I wouldn’t joke about something like this!”

North gaped for several crawling seconds until he buried his face in his hands and muttered something that sounded like, “I should have known” and “the coddling.” 

“Excuse me?”

North snapped his head back up. He looked pained. “Explain. Now.”

“I think it’s fairly self-explanatory.”

“Self-explanatory?!” North barked incredulously. “Bunny, you have hated the boy for over forty years and liked him only a few months after he saved our necks. Now you want to marry him?”

“Bond.”

“I don’t care what you call it!” he snapped. “I notice you didn’t bother to tell me you and Jack were actually involved all this time!”

Bunny hastily glanced away. “About that…”

“Yes?" 

“We haven’t—er, I mean—” He shifted uncomfortably. “We’re not involved. Jack can barely handle a hug, let alone…well…” 

“But you are in love, yes?”

“I am,” he admitted softly.

The silence, if possible, got louder.

North groaned. “Aster.”

Bunny bristled. “Stop looking at me like that! I don’t need your pity!”

“No, you need my blessing,” he retorted, “which I do not think I can give.”

“Oh, what?” Bunny burst out suddenly, “because I’m not good enough? Because I’m a sick freak for wanting a human?”

North reared back in surprise. “What? No! I don’t—I do not care you are Pooka!” He scrunched his face in consternation. “Bunny, I do not care you are giant rabbit anymore than I care Toothy is bird fairy. And I know your character. For all that you drive me up walls, I do not doubt you are worthy of anyone. I am reluctant because it is unrequited on his end.”

“It’s not entirely,” Bunny said like the words were ripped from him. “I—You keep asking what happened, and that’s it. I knew.”

North frowned and gestured again for him to take his seat. “Tell me.”

Bunny reluctantly complied. He was fairly certain a quick escape wasn’t necessary, but this was shaping up to being one of the most uncomfortable conversations of his life. 

“We don’t—” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I don’t really talk about it.”

“Start small. Use the little words.”

Bunny glared; North smiled placidly.

“There are signs,” he said begrudgingly. “I knew I wanted to help Jack. I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to be there for him. I didn’t know that I was…behaving like he was already mine until I—” he swallowed harshly and stared determinedly at the pterodactyl in the corner, “I sort of chinned him.”

“Chinned?”

“Pooka, you see, generally only chin someone we’ve—uh—been with for a bit. But, sometimes, you just know that they’re…receptive, and you chin them and go. Other times there are special circumstances. The attraction is there, but there are hurdles, so you hold off on the chinning and decide to court. Officially. To help things along.”

“So, let me see if I understand this correctly. You marked Jack as your mate—”

“I didn’t mark him. Only partially!"

“So you partially marked him as your mate without his consent,” North said, and oh, his voice was dangerously quiet, dangerously sharp, dangerously everything.

He shifted in his seat. “Not—Not consciously—“

“What, so now you say you didn’t want to?”

“No!—Yes!—No, I--!”

 “You half-marked him based on one-sided, unwanted attraction, and now you mean to marry him in backwards attempt to fix the situation?”

“No!”

North gave him a look so hard he could have bounced diamonds off it. “Jack is stuck physically as teen,” he growled, “and you want this boy who has never had any intimacy in 300 years to be tied to you in romantic capacity because your Bunny senses are tingling?”

“Stop making me out to be some kind of deviant!” he snarled, bolting up from the chair. “I told you you wouldn’t understand!”

“Then help me understand!” North thundered, rising to meet him.

“I stopped myself!” Bunny shouted, gesturing at his chest. “I knew in that instant he was mine, that he was that missing part of me! I'd never felt so happy in all my life, and I wanted it! I wanted _him_! It was like coming home again after millennia of _nothing_! Millenia of running around the Warren and the tunnels trapped in my own personal hell because I still looked for them no matter how much my head screamed at me that I was alone! That I would never be home because everything that made it home was dead!”

He took a shaky breath in the sudden suffocating quiet; he couldn’t meet North’s eyes. “But," his voice cracked, "I stopped myself. Because it was Jack. Because he didn't know. Because I wouldn’t force that on him, no matter how much I _wanted_.” 

“I think,” North said tentatively, his voice heavy with his own grief, and Bunny loathed himself for stirring up horrible memories for the both of them, “we can all understand that.”

“No, I know. I’m sorry, North. I shouldn’t have--”

“It's fine,” he insisted. “Is better to let it out than let it fester inside, Aster, always. We take for granted that we know these things about each other, but sometimes we need to hear them. I am thinking Jack needs to hear them. I have feeling that he thinks we are so old we cannot care about his problems. That we would ignore him again. This is our mistake.” He made a soft, considering noise. “Jack does not know you feel this way, but you know Jack might reciprocate?”

Bunny shrugged, unsettled with having confessed so much, and folded his arms across his chest. “I wouldn’t have chosen him if there wasn’t a chance. Mates are…They’re supposed to be your everything. Picking someone who’d never love you back, well, it wouldn’t kill you, but it’d feel like it did.” 

“But you still did mark him. Enough for a claim.” He frowned. “Enough to deeply hurt you if he rejects you.”

Bunny nodded shortly. 

“Can you still work with him as a Guardian if he does?”

“I did it when I hated him. It’d be no different.”

North gave him a look that said he’d beg to differ and sighed heavily. “This is quite the mess, Bunny. There is so much that can go wrong.” He hummed, tipping his head back and forth as though rolling marbles around in his skull, and restlessly drummed his fingers on his desk. He paused. “You are certain he is at least attracted?” 

“As much as I can be.”

“Because of your instincts.”

“Well, not just that. He talks to me. I can get him to smile and laugh, and he’s—he’s happier when he’s around me. He treats me like I mean something more to him than just a friend. If I’m not reading too much into it.”

“I have noticed some of this, yes,” North said dryly as he eased back into his chair, “and I imagine you are right, if only so you can both make my life more complicated.”

Bunny smirked. 

“So, here is deal,” he said, fixing him with another piercing stare. “I will not say don’t court him, despite my reservations. However, I do not want in-fighting. If Tooth wishes to pursue a relationship—”

“I won’t fight for Jack if he doesn’t want me,” he said. “I can’t promise more than that.”

“Then try to keep it civil if it comes to that, please. I cannot take the drama.” North added peaceably, “And if Jack wishes to be with you, I will give you my blessing. Though I do not understand why you need it.”

“It’s tradition. I’m supposed to present myself to the members of my intended’s family that will be the most critical of me and the most protective of them. I’m not sure where Sandy stands, and Tooth is what she is, but you’re not exactly my biggest fan, and I know Jackie thinks of you like his father, in a sense, not that he’ll admit it.”

“I would like to believe that.” He smiled sadly. “But Jack can hardly stand to talk to me.  He came to apologize for the party, wanted to know if I’d noticed anything strange with you, and then left before I could say much else.”

“Give him some time,” Bunny said, even as he resolved to talk to Jack about it. “He’ll come around.”

“Oh yes,” North scoffed, “I’m certain he’ll be around much more as he tries to deal with you. I can already hear the exasperation.”

“I apologize in advance.”

“Lovely. I just hope you understand that if you are too aggressive, Jack will go back to skittish reindeer; if you are too vague, Jack will wear naïve blinders through whole thing. It will be like throwing eggs at cold, brick wall. Hilarious to watch reenacted with elves, but pointlessly sad for you. Do not become the schadenfreude." 

Bunny rolled his eyes and then reached over and tapped the box. “You’re going to want to open that.”

“Your deflections need work,” North retorted and picked it up. He made a show of tearing through the wrapping paper and then froze once he lifted the cover. “Are these…” He looked up and Bunny could have sworn there were tears in his eyes. “…gourmet Christmas cookies?”

“Yup. And that’s got a bit of a false bottom, so when you finish that dozen, there’s about 88 more cookies waiting for you. Spot of Pooka magic.”

North blinked. Those were definitely tears.

“And I’m still gonna talk to Tooth and make you some stuff for your crew in the meantime. Just don’t plow through those in one sitting. Maybe give a handful to some particularly nasty elves.”

“I--” North sniffled. “I do not know what to say.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, mate. Just—” Bunny wheezed as North moved like a flash and crushed him in a massive bear hug.

“You are my furry angel!”

“Never,” Bunny gasped out, “say that again!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Put me down! North! My ribs are cracking!” He took a deep breath as North let him go and put some distance between them. “Warn a guy, mate.”

“I am sorry! It is just,” North squealed giddily, the _horror_ , “cookies!”

“Right, so, this is the most embarrassing day of my life,” Bunny griped. “I’m leaving before it gets worse.” 

“But you did not explain the outfit!”

“Ceremonial. What’dya think? Hope you took a picture, because you’re never seeing it again.”

“Well, you should probably let Jack see it before you cast it into oblivion. The leather is very flattering--”

“I’m stopping you right there before you scar my mind with unfortunate implications.” He turned to leave, then hesitated. “Thanks, North,” he said softly. “For…you know. I appreciate it.”

“Good luck, rabbit,” he said, patting his belly, “though I have feeling you will not need it.” Then he cursed as he knocked over a quill and inkwell with his elbow. “Ah, no, no!” He held up a fancy paper snowflake dripping with black ink. “I just perfected this pattern!”

“That is why we clean. You’re hopeless.” Bunny snorted and then called, “See you soon, Santa,” over his shoulder as he near about binkied all the way back to the Warren with a lighter heart. 

He did not see North stare at the pile of ink-stained snowflakes on his desk and pale as a cold knot of dread twisted in his gut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas movie references in case you were wondering: "The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus", "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer", "Olive the Other Reindeer", "Ernest Saves Christmas", "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer", "The Santa Clause", "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town", "Noel", "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians", and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas".
> 
> Easter retorts: "The Easter Bunny Is Coming To Town", "Hop", and "Here Comes Peter Cottontail".
> 
> **Honorable mentions go to "Frosty the Snowman", "Father Christmas", "Hogfather", "Elf", "A Charlie Brown Christmas", "A Garfield Christmas", "Santa Claus", "Santa and the Ice Cream Bunny", "It's a Wonderful Life", "Miracle on 34th Street", "The Town Santa Forgot", "The Year Without A Santa Claus", "Rudolph's Shiny New Year", "White Christmas", "A Christmas Carol", and "A Christmas Story" which were almost included but were cut for a severe lack of flippant Easter rejoinders. Get your head in the game, pop culture. Honestly.


End file.
